


When The Devil Weds

by itsjustafeelingthatihave



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angels, Angst, Devils, Extended Metaphors, Fluff, Other, Poetry, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Sexual Tension, Sexual Undertones/Overtones, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 03:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16945935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsjustafeelingthatihave/pseuds/itsjustafeelingthatihave
Summary: In this world, the dead outnumber the living. In this world, saints and sinners tread even ground. And in this world, things aren’t nearly as simple as a “saints and sinners,” list. Negan is often known as the worst of the worst in these terms. But as his seductive charms encircle your senses, you are reminded that everyone has a past and people are so much more complex than perceptions may project.





	When The Devil Weds

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the pieces that was posted on my Tumblr, before I made this AO3 account. So, I'm currently playing catch up with getting those works posted over here as well. Once everything I have written previously is cohesively posted on here as well, the posting arrangement will be this: As of now, my upcoming works will be posted to Tumblr first, directly followed by its upload to AO3. All of the same fanfictional writing that can be found on my Tumblr will also be available on AO3, and vice versa. The only exception to this is my Roleplay writing and collaborative writing with other Tumblr users. That sort of writing will remain viewable on Tumblr only.)
> 
> **Here's a snippet of my original author's note for context:** I wrote this a couple months before I started working on The Burden Of Caring. This poem was actually the work that acted as the catalyst for some of the themes and events present in that story. I just always felt nervous when it came to posting this because from what I’ve seen, poetry is a very unconventional fanfiction format. But thanks to some reassurance and kind words, I decided to bite the bullet and go for it. So, here it is! Even though I’m still crazily nervous about releasing it, haha!
> 
> **A written rundown of the warnings for this particular chapter (both those tagged and untagged) : Swearing. Sexual undertones/overtones. Metaphors/references involving devils, angels, and other ideas that may have religious/spiritual ties for some. And Negan being Negan ;).**
> 
> **Other notes:** Please keep in mind, the metaphors/references involving devils, angels, and other ideas of the like are used strictly for fanfictional purposes. It is all for the sake of entertainment only. They are in no way meant to promote or discourage any real-world worship/religion/religious/spiritual practices or ideals in any way. Also, the reader is written to be of, or above, legal consenting age (18+.) 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this! If you want to share your thoughts and whatnot with me, I’m all ears! Thank you for taking the time to check out my profile and/or my work, in any capacity you choose to interact with it. Please know, any feedback given is treasured and wholeheartedly appreciated. A big thank you to the people who helped me stay encouraged as I wrote this, and all who read the finished product. You guys are all amazing. Now, on with the fic. Happy reading!
> 
> Wanna connect elsewhere, or read/interact with my work elsewhere online? You can find me on Tumblr, under the same handle: 'itsjustafeelingthatihave' - This is my personal and fandom blog, so you get a bit of everything over there!
> 
> **MY FICS ARE INTENDED FOR ADULTS (18+ AUDIENCES) ONLY. THEY WILL BE RATED/TAGGED/GIVEN WARNINGS AS THOROUGHLY AS POSSIBLE. PLEASE HEED ANY AND ALL INFO PROVIDED BEFORE/WHEN READING.**

> You know what they say about holding hands with the devil,  
> “Well, at least his hands are warm.”  
> And in this cold world, that warmth goes a long way, even if it burns.
> 
> You know what they say about the devil’s tongue.  
> Silver, sharp as a dagger, and cool as ice,  
> Venom drips from his every word, but his poison is laced with sugar.   
> His hot breath and whip-like whit more intoxicating than any liquor.
> 
> You know what they say about the devil’s eyes.   
> They’ll hypnotize you, pull you in,  
> Freeze you in place,  
> Yet sear your every nerve, fill you with pain and pleasure.  
> Then, with the blink of an eye and flick of his brow  
> They’re a mirror.  
> You reflect him, he reflects you.  
> One image for but a moment.  
> Maybe two separate beings never were.  
> Has he ever had tear-filled eyes,   
> Like you’ve had so many times?
> 
> You know what they say about the devil’s voice.  
> It’s a forbidden song, written just for the attention of the listener.  
> Even the most foul words begin to caress your desperate, hallow ears   
> Like the gentle, yet eager hands of the lover long yearned for.  
> His words are somehow both airy and iron-clad,  
> The delicate whine of a violin drifting between the thunderous claps of a bass drum.  
> You feel your body begin to sway to the beat of his song  
> As he lowers his voice to nothing but a whiskey-scented whisper,  
> “Lean in closer, my darlin’. I’m not here to hurt ya’. Just let me hear your pretty little tune once more. C'mon now, don’t make me fuckin’ wait.”  
> But is that his voice you hear, or is it your own?
> 
> You know what they say about the devil’s smile.  
> The angels cried in mourning when they could no longer gaze upon it, no longer bask in its strange yet familiar glow.  
> That smile, spread across his face like a welcoming banner.  
> Danger cloaked in safety, safety cloaked in danger.  
> Those gleaming teeth, each one sharpened to a seductive point.  
> That skilled tongue slides over them with delicate flourish.  
> Maybe they had been splattered with blood only a moment before  
> But now, no one would be the wiser.  
> You are again a mirror, sparkling and oh-so-clear  
> Maybe you always had been a little sullied too.  
> Sturdy you stand at the precipice,  
> Blood long ago made even virgin hands unclean.
> 
> Toe to toe, you stare into the shadows of this dominant in equal fairness and understanding.
> 
> The devil was no devil at all.  
> Was nothing but a man,  
> Taken for all he had,  
> Left with nothing but his many talents.  
> So, he surrendered his reminiscent, shattered fragments to the unforgiving world that had only taken.  
> Indeed, he gave back, returned ten-fold.  
> Not a soul would live to say otherwise.  
> To everyone who crossed his path  
> He gifted his endless bounty of blazing charm and beautiful wickedness.  
> That smile his most deadly weapon.
> 
> You know what they say about holding hands with the devil,  
> With this man.  
> Only those who have truly fallen for him seek to hold tighter.  
> But in this frigid wasteland,  
> As you slip your hand in his  
> His fingers lock in place  
> He promises he’ll deliver.  
> So, does it matter if holding hands with this mortal man,   
> This immortal devil  
> Has made you just as viciously wicked as he?  
> Do you now carry the weight of his crimes?  
> Could loving him absolve him of his guilt? You of yours?   
> No, never.  
> His glittering grin shines in your pupil,  
> His grip on your hand and heart tightens.  
> Does holding hands with the devil make you a sinner?   
> And at this point, does it matter?  
> Because nothing matters if you’re dead  
> You are his because you get that.  
> You are happy because shared depths go beyond that.


End file.
